


in the red darkness (you were there)

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Series: under 1k fic [2]
Category: Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Idk what to tag this as, alpha's and beta's and john oh my, author just really loves aldous huxley, bernard is a brat and john can't stop quoting shakespeare, does this fandom even exist, mentions of genetic engineering, pov original characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-05 22:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10318280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: Imagine an entire uncivilized world packed with filthy creatures that dare call themselves human and reproduce, she gags, via expelling a child from their extremities.Picture archaic beliefs that center around that which cannot be seen as opposed to order and stability, peace be to Ford. Such an event would paint her as daring and adventurous with many tales to share.





	

 

* * *

 

Beatrice is a proud beta who follows every rule and law down to the dotted I's and the pale blue gram.

She's an ideal citizen molded from an ova in the labs of the Centrel London Hatchery who shares DNA with hundreds of its inhabitants; a spotless human being with a beating heart that had once been supervised by older alpha's and beta's in it's earliest stages. Her genes were specifically designed from the first dip of an ovum into a sea of the most agile sperm; her future mapped out down to the smallest follicle before she ever drew a breath. The safe confines of the hatchery and it's surrounding buildings are all she has ever known. 

It's a simple life filled with readily dosed soma, feelies that make her skin buzz and lips tingle, orgy porgies, dosing embryo's and coexisting with her fellow beta's. Everyday is relatively a carbon copy of the last and the next but that matters not. She walks around in a fog of perpetual bliss. 

Until  _him._

* * *

 

The savage calls himself John and meanders around as though he were nothing more than a feral beast. Tangled brunette hair brushes his shoulders and frames a gaunt face with eyes that flicker through a range of emotions Beatrice has no experience with.

Bernard Marx keeps vigil at his side with a permanent scowl on his face as the savage speaks in riddles.

"To thine own self be true," he declares with hands stretched outright. "And it must follow, as the night the day, thous canst not then be false to any man."

Estre takes the other beta by the arm and practically squeals in delight. They openly size up the savage and eavesdrop on his fanatical nonsense, careful not to meet Bernard's eye. He's quite high strung, even for an alpha. Suppose the mishap with his blood alcohol levels as an embryo is to blame for his unpleasant state. If he'd merely take a soma he wouldn't have to suffer so. 

Nonetheless, he huffs at the savage and venomously rants  in a tone two decibels higher than it should be. 

"He chose the wrong mentor," Estre whispers, shaking her head. 

"Bernard is quite unpleasant," Beatrice agrees.

John the savage's brows furrow as he tries to understand where he went wrong and what set Bernard off. The two beta's cannot hear the conversation that drops to a hushed emotionally charged argument that's mostly one sided but they can watch it go down.

Bernard gestures at the savage's immaculate clothing that the hatchery has politely supplied him with and then back to his own frame, stumped in height though it is. The taller man cocks his head to the side and begins another strange speech.

"I'd rather like to visit the reservation," Beatrice states.

Imagine an entire uncivilized world packed with filthy creatures that dare call themselves human and reproduce, she gags, via expelling a child from their extremities. Picture archaic beliefs that center around that which cannot be seen as opposed to order and stability, peace be to Ford. Such an event would paint her as daring and adventurous with many tales to share. 

John Savage is exotic and frightening in a thrilling way that finds her slipping a soma in her mouth, allowing its bitterness to coat her tongue. Tonight she'll take up with Paul and next week, Zeke though she cannot help but wonder...

Estre giggles and slides her hand into Beatrice's. "Bring another of his people and we can watch them interact. Oh but it'd be better than a feelie, don't you think?"

The soma courses through Beatrice's bloodstream and she cannot help but laugh at the mental picture. The director wouldn't allow blatant disregard for the rules and safety of his people but a girl can dream.

John growls, "Men are the masters of their fates," and storms off. Predictably, Bernard trudges along after him.

"It would. It's getting late; Paul is expecting me," she squeals.

Estre beams, "I had him last week. He's quite pneumatic."

"So I've heard. Bye now."

With that, the two girls part.

* * *

 

 


End file.
